Meitengheim Great Swordsman

These muscle-bound men hailed from a distant land filled with volcanoes—Meitengheim.

It was once a colony of the Barkley Empire. After the Earl of Meitengheim led a rebellion to achieve independence a hundred years ago, it became known as a 'mercenary camp.'

A considerable number of Meitengheim mercenaries came to Pande to make a living. They rarely used shields, preferring to fight on foot with two-handed greatswords.

They didn't ride horses. Rumor had it this was because the horses' faces reminded them of their own wives, but in reality, Meitengheim's rugged terrain was unsuitable for riding horses or forming cavalry units, so none of them knew how to ride.

With volcanoes and iron ore abundant in their homeland, Meitengheim's metallurgy was highly developed. The heavy armor and two-handed greatswords they forged were top-tier goods anywhere.

However, in the eyes of Pande's nobles, the Meitengheim people were still just a group of barbarians. Although they were brave and fearless as mercenaries, these tall, burly infantrymen didn't fit Pande's chivalric aesthetic.

Right now, these dozen or so burly men were staring blankly at the black-haired youth before them, their gazes filled with disdain and mockery.

Li Ang stood at 1.8 meters tall, and half a year of training had given him a powerful physique, making him quite the specimen on Pande. But standing before these burly men, he looked like a little chick lost among a flock of geese.

"Alright, guys, you're my people now," Li Ang said, waving the parchment in his hand. "Who's your leader?"

The burly men acted as if they hadn't heard him, their mockery intensifying.

"Huh? No one can talk? Looks like you'd rather be slaves than real warriors..." Li Ang decided not to waste any more words and called out to Andrew outside the door. "Let's go. Lock the door. We'll find some noble lady to sell them to later. I'm sure we'll get a good price..."

One of the Meitengheim men pushed his companions aside and stepped forward, glaring fiercely at Li Ang.

Compared to the other giants, this man didn't seem particularly bulky, standing at about 1.9 meters. Among the Meitengheim group, he was considered short.

But the muscles on his body were like surging waves, making the already strong Li Ang appear frail.

This warrior probably weighed twice as much as Li Ang, yet he walked with a surprising lightness rather than a lumbering gait. He was clearly a master who had balanced strength and agility well.

"What kind of warriors? If we fight as mercenaries, we'll die without regret. But if we're thrown into an arena to fight beasts for entertainment, we'd rather die."

A scar ran diagonally across half of his forehead. His voice was harsh, like metal grinding, but incredibly clear, fitting the characteristics of a low-ranking captain who often gave orders on the battlefield.

This was clearly their leader.

Good, he can still reason. That makes things easier. And he has a sense of honor, even better.

"I've bought you because I want you to fight for me as mercenaries. I'll even pay you for it—though perhaps a bit below market price until I recoup my purchase cost."

Li Ang stared into the man's eyes and said with utmost seriousness.

The scarred man also met Li Ang's gaze, listening intently. He nodded. "We can fight as mercenaries, as long as there's food. The pay doesn't matter... But I can't let my brothers fall into a fight to the death again. I won't follow a coward you can't rely on. Unless you can prove your worth, Barkley."

It seems these men followed an unreliable employer before, which led them to this predicament. And their country's history means they don't have a good impression of Barkley people.

Li Ang pondered for a moment, then looked at the scarred man. "Who's the best fighter among you? We can decide in a fairer way."

The scarred man remained expressionless. "A fairer way? What do you mean?"

Li Ang grinned. "Swordsmanship. Let your Meitengheim specialty, the two-handed sword, decide. If I win, you'll come with me and swear allegiance. If I lose, I'll let you go and grant you freedom. How about it?"

The scarred man grinned, his eyes losing some of their coldness. "A good idea... Not many people on the continent can spar two-handed swords with a Meitengheim Great Swordsman..."

Li Ang turned to Andrew outside the door. "Do me a favor and find a few two-handed greatswords."

The arena had no shortage of weapons. Although all of them were crudely made, most were sturdy and durable, more than enough for a sparring match.

Before long, several attendants arrived carrying several weapons.

The scarred man hefted each one, chose one that felt right in weight, and nodded to Li Ang, holding his sword upright in a swordsman's salute. "Meitengheim Great Swordsman, Kloze."

"Li Ang, Barkley."

Li Ang didn't even pick and choose, casually grabbing a sword and signaling that he was ready.

Actually, Li Ang was already secretly delighted. This guy is a Great Swordsman, a true elite!

The room was spacious enough for greatswords to be wielded. A group of people stood far back, forming a circle and leaving the open space in the middle for the two men about to duel.

The two stood facing each other, about five paces apart. They simultaneously lowered their stances, holding their swords with both hands, pointing them diagonally towards the ground beside them.

Then, they both stepped forward simultaneously, closing the distance.

Kloze raised his sword and made a probing thrust, but Li Ang didn't even blink. He let the sword come within inches of his face before watching Kloze withdraw it with lightning speed.

This was a feint by Kloze to draw him out, but Li Ang didn't seize the opportunity. Instead, he firmly held his ground, moving forward a little more than half a step.

He was significantly shorter than his opponent, and his arm span was shorter than Kloze's, so he needed to close the distance first.

Kloze also retreated half a step. He was an experienced swordsman, and the scar running across his forehead, though not fatal, proved he was a master who knew how to leverage his physical advantages.

But with this retreat, Li Ang suddenly lunged forward, his body low. He swung his sword backhanded, parrying Kloze's block, and then closed the distance to within a step—a range too close for greatswords, but perfect for daggers.

Kloze couldn't create distance either, as their two swords were crossed beside them, locked in a stalemate. It was an awkward position where neither could exert much force, and whoever retreated would lose the initiative.

But Li Ang suddenly shifted sideways and raised both hands. After a short, grating sound of steel on steel, the pommel of his sword accurately struck Kloze's chin.

All of this happened in a flash. Andrew, standing further away, couldn't even clearly see their movements. He only saw that as soon as they made contact, Kloze was forced back several steps.

Stumbling back a few steps and nearly falling, Kloze regained his footing, grimacing as he rubbed his chin. His expression was extremely grim.